“At no other time (than autumn) does the earth let itself be inhaled in one smell, the ripe earth; in a smell that is in no way inferior to the smell of the sea, bitter where it borders on taste, and more honeysweet where you feel it touching the first sounds.” ― Rainer Maria Rilke

I made this image on the final weekend of summer, along the shores of North Hastings’ Papineau Creek. Among the red pine and green maples, a bright splash of red reminds us, that despite the unseasonably warm temperatures we are currently experiencing, the cycle of seasons is inevitable.

The red fairly jumps out against the background, bright sunshine enhancing the effect. I believe these are Red Maple acer rubrum, which is aptly named. This year because other leaves have not quite started to change colour, the red maples stand out like crimson beacons. I say many along the highway the prior weekend but could not pull over for a good image. This one makes up for that to some degree.

As I look outside today, I see that fall is really beginning to advance, and the rest of the trees are joining in on what promises to be a spectacular, mild autumn.

“Outside, there was that predawn kind of clarity, where the momentum of living has not quite captured the day. The air was not filled with conversation or thought bubbles or laughter or sidelong glances. Everyone was sleeping, all of their ideas and hopes and hidden agendas entangled in the dream world, leaving this world clear and crisp and cold as a bottle of milk in the fridge. ” ― Reif Larsen

As this wonderful mild September winds down, I’m reminded of the good time spent north of my home at our camper on Bancroft’s Marble Lake. Though I’m not a ‘morning’ person, there have been several occasions when I have ventured down to the dock to watch the sun rise, gradually burning off the mist that hangs over the water, dancing in the shifting air currents.

In mid to late September, the landscape participates in this dance as well. The cooler nights cause mist to form within the trees and hillsides and the whole world seems blanketed in fog. As I stood on the dock looking across the lake, the thinning fog began to reveal bright colours showing through layers of green. There was a magic to these muted colours that I really enjoyed. And so, here they are. It’s a bit more subdued than most of my recent images, but also has a real sense of calm and anticipation all in one image.

“The difference between darkness and brightness is how you thrive on those moments and how you use such circumstances with goodwill in your spirit.” ― Angelica Hopes

Here we are nearing the end of September, and the end of summer. I was surprised to see just how much colour change is already occurring not too far north of my home. As my family and I drove through the North hastings region of Ontario this past weekend, I especially noticed than some of the maples had already turned bright red. Sadly, I’m not sure what species of maple this is but it sure stood out.

I simply had to make an abstract of it. As with many of these, the finer details don’t get noticed till captured in a photo. I was subtly aware of the colour appearing in the undergrowth, but it really showed up in the photo. There was also a dead tree, bleached white by the sun, which really popped, especially in the photo.

This image is part of a small series I have posted over the past few days, all made within a few hundred meters of each other on Papineau Creek.

“Ah, September! You are the doorway to the season that awakens my soul… but I must confess that I love you only because you are a prelude to my beloved October.” ― Peggy Toney Horton

In a quiet, unmarked park, along the banks of Papineau Creek, stands a beautiful grove of red pines and balsam firs. Pathways wind between them, enticing me to take just a few more exploratory steps to see what lies beyond.

It’s a hot day, very hot for September, but I know October and cooler weather is inevitable. This is my first time really exploring this little gem of a park. It’s crisscrossed with paths and roadways, making it extremely accessible and quite open. So, as I explored, I made a few more photos. Many just snapshots and memories of a day spent with family and a few more deliberate ‘artsy’ images in my favourite abstract style.

I’m reviewing them slowly, enjoying what each image offers me, still not sure if I have a series or not. We’ll see what the next few days offer up.

“Fall has always been my favorite season. The time when everything bursts with its last beauty, as if nature had been saving up all year for the grand finale.” ― Lauren DeStefano

I’m considering starting another series based on this past weekend, enjoying the Bancroft Area Studio tour and the natural beauty of the North Hasting Highlands area, which we drove through as part of the tour.

This has been a very strange year indeed. As we drove from studio to studio, I noticed many of the leaves had already begun to change colour. For those who follow my blog regularly, you will know that we have had an excessively wet summer, and a bit cooler than usual. Well, that all changed a few weeks ago and we are now experiencing a dry spell and temperatures more appropriate for July. So, it’s really strange to have it feel like mid-summer yet see fall colours starting. The trend is supposed to continue for at least another week.

The image above was made at one of my favorite rest stops in the area. A small, unmarked park along the shores of Papineau Creek. I stopped here for lunch with my family and decided to make a few images before cooling off in the creek.

Adding the element of water had a nice effect on the image, but it’s the only one like it, the rest are images of the forest. Like I said, I may make a short series of them and wanted to start out with this one as I consider the other images.

“I think it is far more important to save one square mile of wilderness, anywhere, by any means, than to produce another book on the subject.” ― Edward Abbey

In this image, the pines emerge from a thickening undergrowth. You can also see evidence of deliberate ‘thinning’ of this managed forest. Larger trees are selectively removed, the forest managers careful to remove the branches, lest they become fuel for fires. The trunks cut into manageable pieces, are left to return to the earth, a slow, natural, but controlled cycle.

I chose to make this image because it shows the prevalence of the low underbrush, primarily sedges, bracken ferns, and a few maple, beech, and birch saplings, starting to take hold, as pine canopy thins. The sunlights is quite noticeable in the background, further evidencing this thinning. There is lots of room for growth here and I can only imagine what it will look like in a few short years, as the hardwoods take root “Among the Pines”, eventually becoming the dominant species till the pines become the minority in this evolving forest.

It has been interesting to me, working on this series to take the time to observe the many patterns in a very familiar forest. It’s not till I paused and really considered the elements in each composition that I became more and more aware of the stages and changes this area is going through, some accelerated and others a bit slower, each as it is required to be, an essential part of the life of the living breathing forest.

“The forest stretched on seemingly forever with the most monotonous predictability, each tree just like the next – trunk, branches, leaves; trunk, branches, leaves. Of course a tree would have taken a different view of the matter. We all tend to see the way others are alike and how we differ, and it’s probably just as well we do, since that prevents a great deal of confusion. But perhaps we should remind ourselves from time to time that ours is a very partial view, and that the world is full of a great deal more variety than we ever manage to take in.” ― Thomas M. Disch

This image features the trunks of the pine trees higher up, just below the canopy. It yields a much brighter image, as elements of the sky and some high maples reflect the day’s bright sunlight among the rows of darker pines. There’s also an interesting weave of the smaller trees in the background. Among the seeming monotony of planted pines, wonderful patterns emerge and it’s no longer the same monotonous forest.

I enjoyed creating this fairly quick series on my hike this past weekend. I had not intended on a long hike, more focussed on making several connected images for my “Among the Pines” series. But, that Sunday was gorgeous for mid September and I ended up travelling some eight kilometers and exploring areas I had as yet not visited. The expansive trails of the Oak Ridges Trail System offer me so much variety. Even though I have been hiking them extensively for the past several years, there is always something new, some side trail that leads to an unexpected stream or meadow.

I’m blessed to live in an area with such diversity and with so may well maintained trails, literally on my doorstep. That’s why so many of my images feature these forests, I doubt I will ever get tired of them and the hours of solitude they provide me, so I can recharge after a busy day or workweek.

“Nothing is static; things always change. The best you can do is change along with them and work with what you have.” ― Cate Tiernan

I really struggled with the title on this one, but the sweeping, slightly giggled movement of the camera reminded me of a dance. The greens and browns blend together in a waltz of light. The movement is a bit more rigid than I prefer, yet created an interesting effect.

That’s the wonder of these abstractions, every image is different, significantly so. in many cases. I set out with a vision of what I am trying to communicate with the image and often if simply fails. This image nicely captured and separated the individual tones within the forest, showing the bright points of light within the darker areas. My eyes pick up on this when I see the composition initially, and it is usually what prompts me to stop for an image. The technique sounds so simple in concept but there are so many variables that make or break the final shot. Many times I have walked away disappointed that I could not effectively capture the essence of what I see, but there are less and less disappointments the more I shoot.

Here, the pines thin out as I enter the edge of a meadow, deep within the forest. These open areas often surprise me and I wonder how they came to be, in the midst of a thick forest. Fora shot like this, they let in lots of light, which makes for nice contrast, but is a challenge to balance without blowing the image out.

“Nature is a haunted house–but Art–is a house that tries to be haunted.” ― Emily Dickinson

Every now and then the gently winding path leads along or within patches of dark pine forest. These mighty trees rise from the ground and weave their branches into a tight canopy, blocking out most of the light. The space below is an eternal twilight filled with dead branches and a thick carpet of pine needles. Despite this, small green shoots struggle for a patch of sunlight, sheltered from the elements in this dark environment.

Along the edge of these groves of pines, bright sunshine warms the ground and plants flourish, creeping as close to the pines as possible, seeking shelter from the wind yet far enough away to catch the sunshine, like a person walking close to buildings to avoid the rain.

The contrast between the dark pines and the bright path is what inspired this image, the characteristics of the light visibly different once you slide back to the pines, where a golden light predominates.

As the quote above so eloquently puts it: Nature ‘is’ and art attempts to communicate the elements which makes it what it is. Through my abstract photos, I attempt to bring some of those elements of life into the image through deliberate movement.